It’s all fun and games.....

This story was written in June of 2008, finally decided to share it.


"It’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt"

How true that statement can be and although the majority of us may have heard this from our parents it never really held much weight until now for me. I don’t have to tell anyone that the world we live in is a dangerous place. Every single day people lose that roll of the dice with fate and well crap happens...to paraphrase another well known cliché.

In racing the possibility of injury is a way of life, it really isn’t a question of if but rather when and how bad. When bad things happen the family of the sport really shines through as without fail your friends and people whom you may not know any more about than the number on their jersey pitch in and help. I recently helped a young girl who was at an open practice load her boyfriend’s bike as he was being loaded up for transport. As I pushed the bike over to his truck the folks pitted around them who immediately knew something had happened, came over and like a swarm of bees had everything loaded up. I went to give her the keys but she couldn’t drive with the stick-shift so we decide that parking it by the track office would make him feel good and then she could ride with him to the ER. As we drove over she remarked that she didn’t spend much time with him at the track and was surprised at how everybody came over and was so nice to her, asking how she was and helping out. I explained to her that it was just how it was with racers and their families, we all know it sucks to crash and we also know that someday it will be our turn in the barrel. How soon I would get a chance to be right about that one, as not too long after that practice day our barrel rolled in.

It was just another typical race day for us at Winchester Speedpark as we got ready to go for round 4 of the series, it rained the night before but beautiful blue skies greeted us in the morning so it looked like practice would be muddy but the track would shape up to be mint for racing. Jake gated up for his heat race feeling good about the day, he had run a solid fourth in his first outing on the 2008 SX layout and expected to do well again. The gate dropped and he reacted well off the line coming off the start running top five, as the pack rounded turn two Jake had only a handful of guys ahead perfectly set up for the double that would separate the pack a bit allowing him to run smooth laps to work his lines and get a great gate pick for the main....except that didn’t happen.

As soon as Jake left the face of the jump I knew something was wrong because he kicked his left leg out and twisted at the top of the bike. When he came down it looked like he flat landed then bounce-rolled over the next jump off the side of the track and went down. I didn’t really think it was going to be too serious as Jake would most likely get up any time now and remount to finish his heat, pissed at himself for not doing better.....except that didn’t happen either.

As I walked to the corner of the mechanics area to get a better look I saw a track ref pulling Jake’s bike up off him and kneeling down but instead of helping Jake stand up he began vigorously waving for the EMT’s to come over and I felt the bottom drop out of my stomach. At this point everything took on that surreal quality that life sometimes has as it got real quiet for me, I couldn’t really hear the bikes still racing around the track anymore but I was suddenly aware of the wind from the trees behind me. I watched them racing to Jakes side flags waving all over the section as multiple riders had gone down. I stood tensed at the edge of the rope separating me from the track waiting to see how Jake was when I noticed the red flag was now also waving and my stomach found a new low as I knew this meant someone wasn’t getting up, turned out it was my someone.

After the track was cleared I was waved over and I sprinted across the track as fast as I could which was really no match for the way my mind was racing. It was scary to see Jake at the center of a full on exam, head and neck being supported as they prepared to put him on a back board. I knelt down and told Jake I was there for him as he occasionally cried out in pain and the medics did their job. The scariest moment for me was as they ran through the standard various questions to see if he was OK and asked “Jake can you move your foot?” and he said “No” I can’t begin to describe to you all how I felt at that point and even as I write this it is going to make me cry again, I just couldn’t believe I heard him say that.
Then he said “Something is under it.” One of the medical bags had been put down just below his boot and his foot ended up resting against it. At which point the EMT said “Just wiggle your toes, can you wiggle your toes?” And he said “Yes” I almost laughed in relief at that point as that is just so Jake, no matter what he has to give the correct answers to the exact question. Well they back-boarded Jake and we headed for the ambulance as they got me up to speed on what was going to happen, we would be going to the local ER and from there would decide what Jake needed. Once Jake was secured I took off to get the truck to follow behind the ambulance at no point during any of this did I see Jakes bike or any of the gear they took off him but as I ran back to the pits our family descended. “We’ll take care of your stuff just go” and go I did without a second thought knowing Jake and I would be well taken care of in the hands of our extended family and that the folks who loved the sport we loved would be thinking about us and feeling our pain.

As we sped along the highway my eyes grimly focused on the twin back windows of the ambulance in front of me, pulsing lights almost hypnotic after a few miles and I began to play the blame game in my head.
“I shouldn’t have told him to be aggressive on that jump, he could have waited a lap....it’s all my fault.”
What if he has permanent damage? What if he needs surgery?....it’s all my fault”
“What the hell was I thinking even getting him into this.....it’s all my fault”
Sing along with me if you know the words.

At that point I had what some folks describe as a moment of clarity and a line from some old western movie whose name escapes me just popped into my head pushing all of the other scattered worries away.
”Sometimes you just have to roll with what life throws you”
So I just sort of told myself to stop and began to focus on the things that I knew lay ahead now that life had thrown us this little curve. Thankfully I can say that everything ended pretty well for Jake that day after a full round of testing, pokes, prods and scans he was determined to have fractured his L-1 vertebrae but there was no nerve damage or complications. It was definitely going to hurt for a bit but he would recover and be back to race another day.

Am I scared about what will happen?
Hell yeah; but that is a part of life and no matter what we do there is no way to keep the bad things in life at bay. When you grab hold of life and shake it for all it is worth sometimes things happen that you don’t expect. I believe it really is the testing of our mettle that shows us how strong we are, even when we would rather not see it.
After all is said and done it isn’t about how hard you fall but how hard you try to get back up that matters the most.

And so the games begin again......